


The Establishment

by roedhunt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slash sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-24
Updated: 2009-10-26
Packaged: 2018-09-30 11:38:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10162274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roedhunt/pseuds/roedhunt
Summary: Harry is referred to a ‘special’ club by George Weasley. After finally gathering up enough courage just to go, he’s now ready to find outwhyit’s so special.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

~*~*~*~

**The Establishment**

Part One

 

~*~*~*~

 

Harry shifted nervously in place as he stared up at an old, worn-out building. He glanced up and down the deserted street, but nothing was there except the faint glowing of the dim streetlights. He looked back at the rusty door in front of him and sighed. This _had_ to be the place. George had given him specific directions, and even though George was known for his tendencies to _fabricate_ , Harry was confident that George wasn’t playing with him.

Not about _this_ anyway.

So, after gathering all of his Gryffindor courage, Harry took a deep breath, advanced the few feet separating himself and the large door, and rapped as loud as he could without breaking a knuckle. Secretly he still wasn’t sure if this was the place, but his doubts quickly left him - because before Harry had even had a chance to pull back his hand, the door quickly opened inward, and a tall intimidating man glared down at him.

“Password?” the man snarled.

Oh. Right. George said there would be a password.

Harry cleared his throat, trying to hide his insecurity. “Concupiscence.”

The large man sneered at him and said nothing, giving Harry the impression he had said the wrong word. The uncomfortable silence lingered a moment longer – long enough that Harry decided he was going to make an embarrassing retreat. But then the man took a step back and stretched his arm out behind him, indicating to proceed inside. Harry sighed in relief and crossed the threshold as best as he could, for there was barely enough room to squeeze by the burly man, who was half-blocking the entrance. Harry held his breath as he passed by; he could smell the man’s foul body odour. Finally Harry was in the barely-lit foyer, and he squinted his eyes to see what his surroundings looked like. To Harry's disappointment, the walls were of a dark colour, and there was nothing in the small room save the two of them. He flinched slightly when a booming voice broke the silence.

“Wait here,” the man growled.

Harry could only nod. As he watched the retreating figure, Harry suddenly began to think this was a bad idea. George _had_ recommended this place to Harry, but conveniently left out the details of how it would begin or what to expect. However, he did give Harry _some_ sort of reassurance: ‘Trust me. It’s perfect for you.’ And: ‘You’ll finally find your answers, Harry, even if you don’t know all the questions.’ Harry closed his eyes and rubbed his palms on the front of his trousers to wipe his sweaty hands.

“Mr Potter, do you know where you are?”

Harry inhaled sharply and spun around as his hand enclosed over his concealed wand. In front of him was a kind-looking woman who appeared to be roughly around twenty. He smiled nervously and nodded.

“Yes.”

“And do you know _why_ you are here?”

“Yes.”

“And are you certain that you _want_ to be here?” she asked calmly, though she raised a questioning brow.

Harry took a deep breath and held his head high. “Yes,” Harry said confidently. He knew now that this _was_ the place, and that yes, he _did_ want to be here.

She smiled warmly. “Good. I must ask you though, Mr Potter. Are you ready? Are you willing to let go?”

This time Harry could only manage a small nod, but his eyes held his certainty.

The woman smiled again and gestured behind Harry. Harry turned and his eyes opened wide. He was surprised to see a small round table with a large wooden bowl sitting on top. It reminded Harry of a… of a… _No._ No, it couldn’t be, could it? Harry looked back at the young woman, mouth gaping.

“Relax, Mr Potter,” she said, soothingly. “In order for you to get the most out of this experience, I need to extract specific information.”

Harry glanced down at the bowl and then back to her before nodding his consent. She motioned for him to move beside it.

“Now before we begin, Mr Potter, a contract must be made.”

“Contract? What kind of contract?” Harry asked suspiciously.

She smiled. “A binding contract that simply states that you are here of your own free will and that whatever happens to you, our … _business_ … is not responsible.” After a brief pause, Harry nodded. “It will also state that once you leave, we will not divulge _anything_ to _anyone_ what had occurred here.”

“How will I know you will keep your word?”

“Because it is a binding contract,” she said simply.

Harry looked away for a moment. It wasn’t too late. He glanced back to the door then to the young woman. Finally, he nodded slowly. She smiled assuredly and instantly, a piece of parchment appeared along with a quill and ink. Once they had both signed the contract, it disappeared as quickly as it came, and she motioned for Harry to close his eyes. Harry's eyes widened as he saw her pull out her wand.

“Relax,” she whispered soothingly, and Harry’s muscles slackened slightly and closed his eyes.

He flinched when he felt her cool fingertips on his right temple, then there was a small pressure on his left side, and he knew it was the tip of her wand. He gasped, feeling her inside of his mind; searching his most private thoughts. Harry suddenly panicked and immediately tried to close his mind. He didn’t want to look.

“Remember why you are here, Mr Potter,” she whispered softly.

Unconsciously, Harry nodded and although he was completely mortified, he concentrated on the things he had never revealed to anyone. Not even to Ginny when they had dated briefly. He shifted slightly when he felt part of his mind leave his body, and he began to tremble. Once he was sure it was over, Harry fluttered his eyes open, breathing heavily. Through his peripheral vision, he saw a white, shiny stream of light swirl over the bowl and it slowly sank into it.

The young woman smiled warmly at him, and then bent over and dipped her face into the circling mass. She disappeared instantly and Harry's heart pounded wildly in his chest. He was more nervous of what her reaction would be rather than the thought of actually experiencing any of it. In a flash, she had returned and faltered slightly on her feet before reaching out to take Harry's hand.

“Follow me, Mr Potter.”

Harry moved over to the furthest wall – the same one that the large man had disappeared into – and the young woman placed her hand on it before turning to Harry.

“You may stop anytime you wish, Mr Potter, but I assure you, you will only be doing a disservice to yourself.”

“What if I decide to stop? What will I need to--?”

“Chose a word now and then when it’s said, everything will end.”

Harry thought for a moment. He couldn’t very well pick ‘stop’. He might shout it out and not mean it. He tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth and then looked at her decisively.

“Mudblood.”

She stared at him, apparently surprised that he would choose such a foul word, but regained her composure quickly and slid her hand down the wall. It opened inwardly and Harry squinted, but could see nothing but blackness. He moved towards the darken room, but the young woman stopped him with a light touch on his arm.

“Remember, Mr Potter: Don’t give in too soon.”

Harry glimpsed into the unknown, then back to her shining eyes. “I understand,” he said with a faint smile.

She smiled back at him, and as Harry was crossing the threshold, he thought heard her say, “I hope you enjoy yourself, Mr Potter.”

As soon as Harry was completely into the room, the door closed behind him with a loud click, and he jumped at the sudden noise. He tried to remain calm, but his breathing was becoming more laboured as he nervously waited for something – _anything_ \- to happen. His chest heaved with suspense. This was it. There was no turning back.

The silence seemed to linger, adding to his amounting anticipation. Just when Harry thought that his eardrums would explode from the sound of his own pounding heart, dozens of hands were suddenly all over him. He gasped loudly as he felt them at every part of his body tugging at his clothes. Harry heard the buttons of his shirt pop off as his shirt was being ripped open, and felt the sleeves slide down his arms, accompanied by the soft touch of warm hands. At the same time, his left leg was lifted and his trainers, along with his socks, were removed. Then his right side followed. Hands held him steady as his pants and his trousers were pulled down, and then he carefully stepped out of them. He was now shaking, standing on unsure legs, naked in the darkness. His skin flushed, but it wasn’t from embarrassment.

The invisible hands were back, but this time they were caressing his entire body, coating it with something that smelled of almonds. One set of moist palms started at Harry's feet and worked their way up his legs, whilst fingertips trailed over his chest, pausing every now and then to tease his nipples. A ripple of gooseflesh covered Harry's skin, and he stood there unable to stop his body from trembling. Hands came from behind and enclosed themselves around Harry's neck, then moved slowly upward to his jaw, and then traced the bridge of his nose before finally sliding their fingers through Harry's hair. Harry moaned in pleasure and his head followed the gentle movements as it was being turned this way and that.

Harry's entire skin was alive with desire now and he wanted more than anything to stand there forever, letting those incredible hands worship his body. But just as that thought crossed his mind, the hands changed their rhythm, and the touches turned into a light flutter that ghosted over his flesh. Harry groaned at the loss of contact and replaced the invisible hands with his own. A firm grip at each wrist pulled his hands away and barely tugged on them, leading him forward. Before Harry could protest, another door opened and the hands gently nudged him forward.

Suddenly, a blinding light surrounded him, and Harry instantly covered his eyes. He stumbled into the room and held out one arm to regain his balance. Knowing he could no longer avoid the brightness, he slowly removed his hand away from his eyes, and blinked furiously until they were finally able to adjust to the light. Of course, it didn’t help any that the room’s colour was snowy white. There was a single table to the left that was half the size of Harry's body, and in the centre of the room stood two poles about seven feet high with a cross bar running between them. Harry frowned at the suggestion that a device like that would be used.

Harry froze when a door to his right opened suddenly and gasped as a dark figured entered. The man was covered head to toe in a black cloak, and a large hood concealed his face. Harry watched him as he crossed the room, and stood in front of the opposite wall with his back to Harry. As Harry looked closer, it dawned on him just what kind of cloak the man was wearing.

_A Death Eater’s._

 

~*~*~*~


	2. Part Two

~*~*~*~

Part Two

~*~*~*~

 

Harry's heart began beating faster, and he held his breath as the man reached up to what Harry guessed was his neck, and the cloak, along with the hood, silently slid off the man’s body. Harry gasped loudly as he recognised the long, platinum-white hair.

It was Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius slowly turned to face him, smirking all the while. Harry stood motionless, too afraid to move, and he held his breath as Lucius approached. Harry's mind was racing. He had never for one second imagined it would be Lucius Malfoy. There were so many others he had thought of, so he had to wonder why they had chosen Malfoy. Then it occurred to him. The others he would've picked would’ve been too lenient, whereas Lucius would _never_ be. Although the idea terrified him, he also couldn’t deny that the prospect of Lucius Malfoy being the one excited him. At that moment, Harry convinced himself that he would be fearless, and that he could endure _anything_ that Lucius threw at him.

Lucius was now standing in front of Harry, and their eyes locked. Slowly, Lucius’s gaze shifted downward, and it appeared as if he was examining Harry’s body. Lucius’s mouth curled into a suggestive smile and started to circle Harry. Harry remained absolutely still, but soon found himself shifting uncomfortably under the man’s scrutinising eyes.

After circling a few more times around Harry's stoic body, Lucius stopped in front of him, nodded approvingly, and then walked over to the medium-sized table. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wooden box and set it gently down. Harry watched the blond’s every move, and even tried stretching his neck in the hopes to catch a glimpse at what was hidden inside. Lucius pulled out several items and slid them into his front pocket. He crossed back over to where Harry was still standing and looked down at him, smirking once again.

Harry cried out when his nipples were pinched.

“Does that hurt?” Lucius taunted.

Harry's eyes narrowed in defiance. “No.”

Lucius raised a brow. “No?” He pinched them again, and Harry inhaled sharply. Lucius smirked. “I wonder. Will you cry for me?”

Harry clenched his teeth at the throbbing pain. “No,” he said again, this time firmly.

A half-smile formed on Lucius’s lips, and then he _twisted_ Harry’s nipples. “Will you scream for me?”

“No,” Harry hissed.

With a smug expression, Lucius let go of Harry's left nipple and Harry tried not to gasp in relief. Lucius reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, metal clamp. Attached to it was a thin chain and at the end of it swung another clamp. Harry breathed in through his nose, but after glancing at Lucius’s expressionless face, he looked up at him and scowled. Keeping his eyes solely on Harry’s, Lucius fondled one of his nipples between two fingers before stretching it and then snapped the clamp firmly on it. Harry’s breath caught in his throat. Lucius merely smirked at him and ran the end of the other clamp across Harry's chest and pulled at Harry's other nipple. Harry grimaced, but refused to cry out as the other bit into his skin.

Lucius observed Harry’s expression for a moment and then glanced down. He smiled with amusement as he met Harry's eyes again. Harry was hard. Harry's face flushed when he had realised that his body had betrayed him, but kept looking at Lucius resolutely. Without looking back down, Lucius grabbed Harry's cock and yanked on it. This time Harry couldn’t help but moan. Lucius reached in his pocket once again and pulled out a rubber ring, no larger than 3 inches in width. Attached to the outside edge was a small metal ring. Lucius held Harry's cock firmly at the base with one hand, and he pushed the ring over the tip with his other. He slid it down Harry's cock, pulling the foreskin with it. Once the ring was down as far it could go, Lucius held it in place and tugged on the now-tightened flesh, pulling his foreskin up Harry's length until it covered the end.

Harry gasped loudly when he saw Lucius pull out his wand from his side pocket, but Lucius ignored him. He tapped the ring, and it tightened painfully. Harry closed his eyes and growled in agony.

“Is that too tight?” Lucius mocked, whispering in Harry's ear.

Harry's eyes snapped open. “No,” he snarled.

Lucius took out another rubber ring from his pocket. This one was smaller, and it had a metal ring attached to it as well. Lucius pushed it against Harry’s cock, but it seemed that it was too tight to slide over the tip. Lucius sneered and pushed harder. Harry hissed as the end of his prick had finally managed to squeeze through it, and it stopped just past his glans.

Lucius reached into his pocket for the last time, and pulled out a third ring, much smaller than the other two. Harry's expression turned into disbelief. He knew what Lucius was implying, and he shook his head. There was no _way_ his balls would be able to fit into it. For the first time since he had entered this room, Harry felt genuine fear. He looked up at Lucius panicking, but the man’s face was calm and held no sign of aggression. Harry glanced back at the tiny ring, and suddenly it became clear. Harry could say “No” to anything he wasn’t comfortable with. It didn’t mean, however, that everything _else_ would stop. He could simply refuse. Harry stared at the ring again. It would hurt. There was no doubt about that.

Harry tugged on his bottom lip and wondered. Surely they wouldn’t have had Lucius show him the ring if they already _knew_ that Harry would automatically reject it, would they? Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He _did_ want to push himself to the limit. He told himself that several times before coming here. So, Harry opened his eyes and looked at Lucius. He nodded timidly. Harry could have sworn Lucius had smiled briefly, but he wasn’t sure.

Lucius knelt down in front of him and gently pulled on Harry's arm, indicating that he was to lie down. Nervously, Harry lowered himself to the floor and allowed Lucius to gently push him to a prone position. He watched Lucius intently as he nestled himself between Harry's parted legs and gently pulled at Harry's scrotum, careful not to touch his testicle. Harry's body shivered and unconsciously shook his head. Lucius looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“No? You’re not afraid, are you?” the man asked, but it wasn’t quite a taunt this time.

Harry closed his eyes again and inhaled slowly, holding it briefly.

He knew he was having second doubts again, but then he remembered what the young woman had told him:

_Don’t give in too soon…_

He opened his eyes and glared at Lucius. “No, I’m not.”

With a smirk, Lucius turned his attention back to Harry's balls, spat in his hand and rubbed saliva over them. Lucius gently gripped one of them between his finger and thumb. Despite the fact that Harry's ball was a smaller size, it still seemed doubtful that it would be able to go through the ring. Lucius squeezed it tight and pushed it through with the index finger of his hand, and Harry screamed shrilly as the pain tore through him. Lucius tried to restrain the boy as he struggled in his grasp.

Lucius leaned over Harry's body and whispered, “Do you want me to stop?”

A tear slid down Harry's face and he tried to control his breathing. Every part of his mind screamed, _“Yes, you bastard!”_ , but the stubborn Gryffindor in him knew a challenge when he heard one. Through watery eyes, he leered up at Lucius and snarled, “No.”

Lucius’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and Harry smirked although he knew it would be next to impossible that there could be sufficient room to force the second ball through the ring. But he would not show Lucius his incertitude. Lucius gripped his loose hanging sac and pulled it down, enough to where it was just a thin piece of skin filling the hole. Keeping the retention on the loosen flesh, Lucius pushed and squeezed and then pushed harder on the remaining testicle. Harry's screams rose in volume and then suddenly his testicle popped through the ring to join the other. Still screaming, Harry was released, and he rolled up into a small ball on his side, hands grasping his throbbing groin.

Harry gasped for air and barely sensed the hand that was touching his forehead, pushing away his sweaty fringe. He did feel his torso being lifted up, however, and it was placed on folded legs. A warm hand caressed Harry’s arm gently.

“You can stop this with one word,” a soft voice whispered.

It took a moment for Harry to realise that it was Lucius’s voice, but it was neither mocking nor cruel. It was filled with sincere concern and Harry took strength from it. Still trembling, Harry found himself shaking his head.

“It’s not too late,” Lucius said quietly. “You can end this now.”

Harry shook his head again. “No,” he said, voice cracking. Through his muddled mind, he reminded himself again on why he was here. It’s what he had wanted after all. To face what he had always suspected, but never dared to admit it…to himself or to anyone else.

“No,” Harry said, more clearly. “I’m fine.”

Harry’s body was lifted into a sitting position, and he braced himself on shaky arms. He took a deep, cleansing breath and held it. After a moment, Harry slowly exhaled and looked up at Lucius.

“I’m fine,” Harry repeated, confidently.

Lucius nodded once, stood and held out his hand. “Rise,” he commanded, his voice resuming the same tone it had once held.

Harry reached for Lucius’s hand and rose to his feet. He held his head up and stared at Lucius, grimacing slightly at the dull throb in his balls. It still hurt but fortunately the pain was receding. Harry didn’t even want to _think_ of how it would be removed. Lucius walked behind him, and his arms encircled Harry. He rubbed his hands together in front of Harry's chest, then reached down and cradled Harry’s tender balls.

“This shall be the only comfort I give you,” Lucius stated.

Suddenly, Harry gasped as a warm fervour filled his groin, and unconsciously he tilted his head back and sighed. Whatever Lucius had done to it, it had worked. All too soon, however, the hands were gone, leaving only a faint tingling sensation. Harry tried to hide his contented smile. There was no doubt in his mind now that he would be able to continue. He opened his eyes and looked at Lucius expectantly.

Lucius lips curled slightly then with a nod, he stated, “Come here.”

Harry walked towards him but stopped four feet away from Lucius. The man turned his attention to the small box on the table and pulled out a tiny glass jar.

“Turn around, place your hands on your knees and bend over,” he ordered once he had faced Harry again.

Harry looked at him sceptically but did as he was told. As he leaned over, Harry felt true embarrassment knowing that he was so exposed; so vulnerable. He flinched slightly when a cold, wet finger grazed over his tightly sealed pucker.

“I wonder. Are you a _virgin_ , boy?” Lucius mused, but Harry remained quiet.

The finger was gone and then it returned with what felt like a good lump of grease. The tip of Lucius’s finger worked it along the cleft of his bum and all round his entrance. Harry’s hole opened slightly but as soon as Lucius touched it, it closed. Lucius put some more grease on his finger, and this time he pushed firmly but gently in the center. To Harry’s surprise, there was only the slightest resistance, and it opened up enough to let Lucius’s first digit slip in easily. Harry could feel the first knuckle enter, then the second, and then he sighed quietly when he felt that the finger was completely sheathed.

“It doesn’t _feel_ like you’re one,” Lucius said, breathing heavily.

Lucius pulled his finger completely out and slowly pushed it back in. The tight ring of muscle gave way, but Harry’s anus closed firmly about Lucius’s finger. The man pulled it out again just as slow, only to push it back in deeper. Lucius continued to do this until Harry began to move with him.

“You like this, don't you?” Lucius whispered. “You’re riding my finger like a whore,” he taunted. “So now tell me truthfully. Are you a virgin?”

Harry didn’t know if it was rhetorical question or not, but he wouldn’t have been able to answer through his panting. He knew he was rutting against the man’s finger, and a part of his mind was completely disgusted, but the other part couldn’t stop himself from moaning. But it was when Lucius withdrew his finger and nudged Harry’s slacken hole with something larger – perhaps _two_ fingers – that Harry stood up straight and gasped sharply.

“No!” he cried.

Lucius stared at him emotionless, then a small smirk crossed his lips.

“You are a virgin after all,” he stated, and again Harry remained silent. Lucius sneered and yanked on Harry's nipple chain. “Aren’t you?” he demanded.

Harry winced at the pain and nodded. Lucius released the chain, and lifted Harry's chin with the tip of his fingers, high enough so he could stare into green eyes.

“Then we will skip the next step.”

Harry frowned as soon as the man turned around, wondering what the next step might have been. Lucius looked over his shoulder and motioned to Harry with a tilt of his head.

“Grab the bar,” he ordered.

Harry nodded and walked over to the centre of the room to where the bar that was hanging from two poles was and jumped up, firmly gripping it. His legs were dangling and his toes were just clear of the ground.

“You will stay like that until either one of us tells you to let go. Understand?”

Harry’s heart sped up and automatically replied, “Yes”, but his mind was demanding to know just who ‘us’ referred to. He watched Lucius as he walked over to the wall to the left of him and leaned against it. Lucius rapped on it loudly with his knuckles then casually folded his arms over his chest.

Harry looked at him curiously then softly gasped as the door in front of him swung open. A pale young man entered. He strolled across the room, smirking. His arrogance was only matched by his father.

Draco Malfoy.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Draco stopped two feet in front of Harry and then reached out and gripped his balls. Harry let out a sharp cry and immediately closed his eyes tight. The memory of the recent pain washed over him.

“Does that hurt?” Draco taunted.

Harry’s eyes snapped open. “No,” he said confidently with a sneer. He wasn’t about to show this prat any weakness.

“Pity,” the blond taunted, and then released Harry's trapped balls.

Harry inwardly sighed of relief. Draco took a half of step back and grinned wickedly. He caressed the back of his hand along Harry's cheek in a mocking fashion.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he said, drawing out the ‘s’.

Harry raised his head in defiance. “Then do it,” he challenged.

Draco lifted an eyebrow and laughed. “Eager, are we?” He leaned in close and brushed his lips against Harry’s ear. “Will you cry for me?” he asked, echoing his father’s earlier words.

“No,” Harry said resolutely.

“Will you scream for me?” Draco whispered in a low and dangerous voice.

_“No,”_ Harry hissed.

Draco pulled back and smirked. “Well. We’ll find out soon enough, won't we?”

Harry's heart raced as he watched Draco walk over to the table, reached into the small box, and then made a show of pulling out a thin, long strap. With his other hand, he pulled out a short-length riding crop. He glanced over at Harry sideways; his smirk never leaving his lips. He turned and walked casually towards Harry, swinging the strap high in the air.

“I would think that this would hurt,” Draco mused out loud. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re an arrogant little--”

Before Harry could finish his sentence, a sharp smack landed across his upper thigh, just inches away from Harry’s balls. Harry yelped in shock.

“Draco! Remember what I taught you!” Lucius shouted.

Draco turned to his father and narrowed his eyes. “I know!” he hissed, then he realised the tone he had just used towards his father. Draco's eyes widened as Lucius took a dangerous step in his direction. “I’m sorry, Father. It won't happen again,” he said quickly.

Lucius stopped. “See that it doesn’t.”

Draco turned back to Harry only to find him smirking at him. He backhanded Harry across the face.

“What are you smirking at?” Draco sneered. “That just earned you extra lashes.”

Harry ran his tongue across his lower lip. Luckily it wasn’t bleeding. “Then what are you waiting for?” Harry asked defiantly.

Draco pulled on Harry's nipple chain until they were chest to chest. “For you to _beg_ me.”

Harry opened his mouth to spit out, _“Never”_ , but Draco quickly let go of the chain, stepped about five feet back, and lifted up his arm. The strap sliced through the air before landing on Harry's lower thighs. Harry gasped from the sudden pain, but refused to cry out. He wouldn’t give Malfoy – _Draco_ – the satisfaction. He adjusted his grip on the hanging bar and raised a mocking eyebrow as if to ask, “Is that it?” Draco growled and with full force, struck Harry across the chest. There was a slight pause before Harry took several breaths of air and then screamed as the pain registered.

Draco ran his finger over the white stripe that was quickly turning into an ugly shade of red. "You see how the bone is so near the surface here that every strike hurts four to five times more than ones delivered to…” Draco paused and patted Harry's quivering bum. “…other areas of the body?”

Upon seeing Harry's jaw clinch and refusing to answer him, Draco grabbed his chin and forced him to look directly at him.

“You made me angry once, but I will _not_ allow you to do it again,” Draco warned.

Harry frowned and watched him curiously as he stepped closer. Isn't that what Draco had wanted? To see him scream in pain? Suddenly, Draco reached up and cupped Harry's face, stroking his thumb on Harry's cheek. He smiled wickedly.

“I want to be in full control when I make you scream,” Draco explained, then leaned down to breathe into Harry's ear. “Make you cry. And to make you _beg_ me to stop and release you.”

Release him? Harry tilted his head to the side in confusion, and opened his mouth to ask him what exactly was he referring to, because Harry wasn’t bound to the bar. Ignoring his obvious impending question, Draco took that opportunity to bend down and bite the side of Harry's neck. Harry cried out in surprise. After a moment, Draco released his hold, and licked his way up Harry's throat and then stopped to nip at his lobe.

“Oh, yes,” Draco whispered hoarsely. “You _will_ scream. Your desire to come will consume you so completely that you _will_ beg me.” He bit Harry's outer ear. “And you _will,_ won't you?”

Now that Harry finally understood what Draco was referring to, he closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and let that erotic image fill his mind. When he felt Draco step back, he re-opened his eyes. Draco was smiling at him. He draped the strap over Harry’s shoulder, and let it tease Harry's nipple clamps.

“I wonder how many you’ll need?” he mused out loud, sliding the strap off Harry ever so slowly.

With a small wink, Draco walked behind Harry, and Harry instantly began to take in short, shallow breaths; his anticipation mounting. A moment of silence lingered, and then with every second that ticked by, the waiting was becoming more and more excruciating.

When the first strike to his bum hit, Harry sucked in a large amount of air and held it. It didn’t hurt exactly, but it stung tremendously. There was another pause before another blow landed on Harry's left cheek. Harry gasped and his body swung gently from the force. His legs twitched briefly and no sooner that it had stopped, the strap caught Harry's right cheek, and Harry couldn’t help himself from crying out.

“That’s it. Scream for me,” Draco teased.

Draco held the strap over his shoulder and began the downward swing. Harry, hearing the hiss of the lash as it descended, tensed and the muscles in his bottom and his shoulders tightened in anticipation of the pain that was sure to come. But strangely the strap merely thudded across his bare rump, and Harry’s shoulders sagged in disappointment. After a few moments, the leather cracked sharply against his flesh, and Harry's body jerked from the force and from the pain that was coursing through him. An odd strangled noise - half scream, half moan - was wrenched from him.

Six times Draco brought the lash crashing down across Harry's naked backside, and each one landed with a different type of force, _and_ the lash never hit the same place twice. Even through his muddled mind, Harry had noticed a routine in Draco's attacks. He would make absolute sure that Harry's body stopped moving before his next strike. Apparently, Draco wanted Harry to feel each and every blow.

And Harry did feel them. His entire body screamed with desire, and Harry wasn’t sure if he wanted Draco to stop, or to carry on without mercy. But as the stinging smacks continued to land across his flaming bum, it became clear to Harry that it was the latter. In fact, Harry was no longer screaming. He was merely gasping. Yes, he _definitely_ wanted more. Harry began to wonder just how much more he could take _without_ begging to be released from this agonising deprivation.

It was a moment of sudden silence that had caused Harry to realise that Draco had stopped. He fluttered his eyes open and stared at Draco, who was now standing before him. Looking at him through tear-filled eyes, he could see that Draco was smiling in amusement. Draco closed the small distance that separated them, and ran his thumb over Harry's cheek, catching one of Harry's fallen tears.

“I _knew_ I could make you cry. I knew I could make you _scream_ ,” he whispered. “Now let’s see if I can make you _beg.”_

Harry groaned in frustration because he knew that he was already there. He _would_ be begging Draco to release him, and he wouldn’t feel any shame in doing so. Harry was harder than he could ever remember, and if he wouldn’t have had the cock ring on, he probably would have come twice already.

As if sensing that, Draco took one step back and tossed the strap to the floor. He pulled out the small-handled crop, and stroked the length of Harry's cock with the leather tip. Harry opened his mouth and instantly began to pant. He gasped when the first tap hit his swollen cock.

“Like that, do you?” Draco teased.

Before Harry could answer with a “Hell, yes!”, Draco began to steadily smack Harry’s cock at various speeds. Harry threw back his head and yowled. Every muscle in his body tightened and he thrusted his hips forward, wanting more contact. Again and again Harry's cock was struck – lightly, but incessantly. Harry couldn’t think clearly any more; he was lost in his consuming desire, and could only focus on the burning need to come. And because Harry’s mind was so lost, it actually took him a few seconds to realise that Draco had stopped. Harry tipped his head forward to meet Draco's piercing and lustful gaze, and then screamed when Draco grabbed his cock with his fist.

“Now,” Draco drawled. “Beg me.”

Harry couldn’t stop gasping through his open mouth, and his chest heaved with every breath he took. His toes curled when Draco started to stroke him. Slow and hard at first, then faster and faster until Harry began to thrash his body in mid-air. He let out one continuous, frustrating wail.

“Tell me,” Draco whispered. “Do you want to--”

“Yes! Yes! I want to come, you bastard!” Harry shouted. “Let me fucking come! _Please!”_

No sooner than Harry had cried out his admittance that Draco's hand was removed, and Harry screamed in anger.

“You fucking asshole!”

Draco merely laughed at him, and Harry’s body shuddered with rage before finally collapsing. Still hanging by his sore hands, Harry's head fell to his chest in defeat. He didn’t even have the energy to flinch when a fingertip raised his chin. Harry was in such unbearable need and wanted to be released that Harry looked into Draco's pale eyes and whimpered. Draco smiled evilly and leaned down to lick one of Harry's falling tears. Draco continued to smile as he reached up and placed his hands on each of Harry's shoulders. He pushed down and the bar lowered until Harry's knees touched the floor. Draco helped Harry pry his fingers from the steel bar, and his arms fell uselessly to his side. Harry shook them a couple of times to get the blood circulating.

“I _knew_ you would beg,” Draco said, smirking with satisfaction.

Harry's breath caught in his throat at hearing those words and he blushed. Draco had been right. Harry had enjoyed every moment of his torment and it had even reduced him to begging. But he didn’t actually feel ashamed. On the contrary. He felt _relieved._ Yes, Harry was relieved because now he understood that fantasising about his desires was one thing and _longing_ for them was another…but to finally admit to them out loud - and to himself - and then to turn them into a reality …

It was simply liberating.

Long fingers ran through Harry's hair and gripped the back of Harry's head firmly.

“Open your mouth.” When silence was the only response, Draco jerked Harry's head and said it again louder. “Open your mouth!”

Harry peered up at him as his lips parted. He noticed that Draco's cock was just inches away from his face, and that Draco was slowly stroking it. He held onto Harry's hair tight with one hand, and he began to stroke his cock in earnest with the other.

“How I longed for this moment,” Draco panted.

Harry tried to focus on the bobbing cock in front of him, but it was obstructed by the blur of Draco's hand. Harry stuck out his tongue. He wanted to taste him. He wanted that cock in his mouth. Harry moaned and tried to lean forward, but a sharp tug at his hair kept him in check. Harry groaned. Suddenly, Draco froze and thrust Harry towards him, just enough for the tip of his cock to lie on Harry's tongue. Harry growled at him in annoyance. He wanted _all_ of Draco's cock in his mouth.

“Take only the _end_ in your mouth,” Draco ordered, a second before a spray of warm liquid shot out of him.

Harry quickly sealed his lips around Draco's cock and relished in the salty taste of Draco's come. Harry's cheeks sucked inward, trying to pull more of that glorious cock into his mouth. Unable to resist himself, Harry reached behind Draco's trousers, grabbed the back of it and shoved Draco further into his mouth. He heard Draco gasp from above, and Harry smiled around his cock. Yes, he could do this all day.

Suddenly, Harry’s hair was yanked and he was thrown backwards.

“Enough!” Draco spat.

Harry knew by looking into Draco’s eyes – and from his own personal experience - that it wasn’t because Draco didn’t want him sucking on his cock anymore; it was because Draco's cock was now too sensitive. Harry smirked up at him. Draco raised an eyebrow as he tucked himself back into his trousers. He squat down in front of Harry and then flicked the tip of Harry’s cock, causing him to wince.

“Do you still want to come?” Draco asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“Yes,” Harry hissed.

Draco reached up and playfully slapped Harry's face a couple of times. “Perhaps next time,” he chuckled.

Draco laughed harder at Harry's shocked expression, and then rose to his feet. He turned, nodded once to his father, and left the room. Harry couldn’t believe it. That was it? All of that and he didn’t even get to come? He slumped forward and his shoulders shook in denial. Harry tried to calm down his breathing, but his mind was still racing.

Why? Why did he have to go through all of that torture? Yes, it got him to admit that he loved to be spanked – and spanked _hard_ \- and that it had _really_ turned him on, but …why? What other purpose could there be than to…

Harry's train of thought suddenly stopped. Perhaps that was it. This whole scenario with Draco was not just to admit to his strong desire of punishment, but also to get him to admit to … something else. Something he had suspected for quite a while now, but never dared to say it. Harry took a deep cleansing breath and closed his eyes. He could no longer deny it, though. Harry loved _men._ And more than _that_ … Harry … loved …

… _cocks!_

He opened his eyes and smiled inwardly. A huge weight had suddenly been lifted off of Harry's shoulders. He knew who he was now, and _what_ he wanted. And he wanted _more._ Harry sat up straight and felt the pull on his nipples from the clamps and the burning sensation on his ass. Yes, he wanted more of _that_ as well.

Suddenly, through his peripheral vision, Harry saw a pair of dragonhide boots standing in front of him and he looked up.

“Do you wish to stop now, or are you ready for more?” Lucius asked with a knowing grin.

Harry grinned back. “More.”

Lucius nodded once. “Then stand,” he ordered crisply.

Holding onto his knees for support, Harry rose to his unsteady legs. Lucius reached into his pocket and pulled out a leash that divided into three chains. He snapped one end to the nipple chain, one to the first ring on Harry's cock and the last to the band around Harry's balls. Lucius tugged at the leash gently.

“Follow me.”

 

~*~*~*~


	3. Part Three

~*~*~*~

**Part Three**

~*~*~*~

 

Harry held his breath as he was led into another room. He had an idea of what would be waiting for him, but he wasn’t quite sure now if he wanted it to commence. Lucius Malfoy was now involved, and something about the man excited Harry.

Harry stepped over the threshold and noticed that, unlike the previous room, this one was almost warm and inviting, but Harry knew it was a lie. He knew it was merely set up this way to give him a false sense of security. When he was fully in the room, his suspicions were confirmed. In the centre of the room, the floor was sunken in and a knee-high table and a small tub were off to the side. There were several chairs that were arranged in a circle. It was clear to Harry where he would be.

Lucius yanked on Harry’s leash when he felt a small hesitation, and then stumbled slightly, but allowed himself to be led down the few steps and into the centre of the ring. Lucius turned to face Harry and he smirked slightly as he removed Harry's leash. He curled it up in his hand and then walked over to the far side of the room, crossing his arms loosely over his chest and leaned back against the wall; obviously he was going to watch the show.

Calmly, Harry kept his eyes solely on Lucius, but his heart was beating hard in his chest. Harry heard the sound of a door opening and he spun around. His breath caught in his throat as he watched six men enter - all of them wearing Death Eater masks. They filed into the room in a single line, and stopped when each of them were standing in front of the six chairs.

“Well, well. What have we here?” one of them said mockingly.

“It seems that we have a ‘special’ guest,” another answered, clearly with a smile in his voice.

“Congratulations,” a third one said, nodding to Lucius. “You’ve done well.”

Harry glanced over at Lucius, who had been staring at Harry the whole time, and his only answer was a curt nod to the Death Eater.

Harry gasped as he felt a cold hand on his arm, and turned around quickly to face the masked man.

“Do not worry, boy. We will take _good_ care of you,” the man whispered, and the other men laughed.

Harry's heart was now pounding in his ears, and he barely noticed when the six men removed their cloaks. When Harry finally looked at each one of the Death Eaters, he saw that they were dressed only in loose trousers and shoes, and of course they were still wearing their masks.

Before Harry had a chance to react, he was thrown to the ground and then dragged over to the table. He was placed face down on it, and his wrists were tied to the front legs. His legs remained free and his head hung over the edge.

“I think fifty lashes would be a perfect way to begin,” one of them chuckled.

“No, I believe one hundred would be better,” another replied.

“Yes,” a third Death Eater drawled, drawing out the s. “Then when we douse him with urine, his screams will be that much more satisfactory.”

The rest of the Death Eaters laughed.

Harry quickly looked over to Lucius. He was still watching Harry intently, but with no emotions showing on his face. Harry closed his eyes and waited.

When the first crack of the strap landed on Harry's backside, he sucked in a large amount of air, but didn’t cry out until the wave of pain reached his subconscious mind. The Death Eaters laughed harder. The second strike came a few seconds after, and hit Harry right below the curve of his bum. Harry's eyes tightened and his loud scream filled the room. It was several minutes before Harry realised that there was a pause. It was obvious that they wanted Harry to feel each lash.

Harry jerked violently when he felt fingers run through his hair. One of the Death Eaters knelt beside Harry and pulled on his hair so he would be able to look at the man. Through his blurry eyes, Harry stared at the pair looking back at him.

“I’m sure you can guess by now that the hundred lashes will be given periodically and not all at once,” the man said almost playfully, and the sounds of laughter rang out again.

Harry flinched as another hand caressed over his bruised bum.

“Oh, yes,” another Death Eater said behind him. “Because first you will have the honour of _serving_ us with your delectable mouth.”

“And then we will each take turns watching you struggle as we each bring you close to an orgasm,” a third man chuckled.

“Pity you won’t be able to come,” a fourth man chimed in.

“Your cock, however, will be the most brilliant shade of purple,” a fifth man said.

Harry wriggled in his bonds and was met again with laughter. He tried desperately to free himself, but his wrists were beginning to ache, and his head was pounding from the loud noises around him. This is not what he wanted. Not anymore.

Without thinking, Harry's body froze and he yelled at the top of his lungs.

“NO!” he cried. “I’ve changed my mind! I want this to STOP!”

The sudden silence caused Harry's ears to hurt, and he felt every movement in the room cease. But when he felt the air shift around him, Harry panicked and quickly clarified.

“I didn’t mean I wanted to stop! I only meant that I wanted _this_ to stop!”

It was a few seconds before Harry realised that he was now released from his bonds and that he was lying naked and free of restraints on the floor. He glanced up to Lucius. The man was standing straight and tall, and nodded briefly to him before turning towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Harry quickly asked.

Lucius looked over his shoulder and shrugged dismissively. “To bring him in,” he replied simply, and then continued to move towards the door.

“NO!” Harry shouted.

Lucius stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around. “Pardon me?” he asked with a slight sneer.

“I changed my mind about that as well,” Harry said shortly.

Lucius raised an annoyed, but questioning brow.

“I…I want … _you_ ,” Harry said, surprising himself with a slight stutter.

Lucius began to stride over to Harry with a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Are you quite certain?” Lucius drawled. “I will not be as gentle.”

Harry paused for a moment before finding his courage to speak again. “I know that.”

Lucius was now hovering over Harry and looked down at him with a devilish grin. Harry swallowed visibly, but he still managed to nod confidently. Lucius took one step back and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Very well,” Lucius said. “Rise to your feet.”

Without hesitation, Harry stood, but then gasped as his throat was constricted, and he was pushed backwards until his legs hit the edge of a knee-high table. Lucius leaned over and whispered in his ear.

“You may regret your decision, boy,” Lucius began. “But rest assured, _**I**_ will not.”

Harry's heart was thumping hard with fear beneath his ribcage, but he never felt more excited, and he knew that his expression reflected that.

Harry gasped when he was lifted off the ground, and his breathing all but stopped when his back hit the table. In a blink of an eye, Harry was pulled forward until his ass was near the edge. His legs were quickly bent and his feet were pressed up against them. Instantly, his ankles were bound in cuffs and attached to straps that now adorned his thighs. Lucius moved into between Harry's legs and he leaned over his body, pulling Harry's arms over his head. He tied Harry's wrist together and fastened them to the top of the table.

As Lucius slowly rose, his hand ran down the length of Harry's body until it reached his swollen cock.

“So beautiful,” Lucius whispered, giving Harry's cock a hard squeeze once the cock ring was in place. “And so _vulnerable_. I can only hope that you don’t change your mind. I so look forward to watching you scream.”

Although Lucius’s voice held a threat, Harry knew that what Lucius _really_ meant was that he would be watching Harry scream from sexual frustration. Suddenly, Harry blinked as a short but thick object was pressing against his lips.

“Open your mouth,” Lucius commanded.

Harry looked down at the object and noticed it was a small but fat butt plug shaped to look like a penis. Immediately he parted his lips and it slid inside.

“Now,” Lucius whispered. “Suck.”

Harry did was he was told and the instant that he did, his back arched off the table and he howled from the intense pleasure he was feeling in his groin. Lucius chuckled. Harry didn’t have to look down his body to know that his cock had just expanded ten-fold within the confines of his cock ring. He _felt_ it.

“Amazing little toy, is it not?” Lucius asked softly. “Suck _harder.”_

Harry's eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he cried out as he did what he was instructed. He knew his cock was probably turning purple, and through Harry’s muddled mind, he prayed for his immediate release. Lucius laughed.

“I knew you would enjoy that,” Lucius mocked. “Now. Relax your tongue.”

Harry stopped sucking and his back hit the table with a thud. He breathed in and out of his nose and looked up at Lucius, tears of frustration running down his face. Lucius ran his thumb over Harry's cheek, and collected some on the tip. He smiled as he licked it off.

“I dare you to resist doing that again,” Lucius challenged, smiling.

Harry groaned. He knew unconsciously that he would do it again. And he knew that Lucius knew that as well. Harry suddenly breathed in sharply as he felt a cold wet finger graze over his virgin hole.

“I would tell you to relax, but I doubt that you would be able to,” Lucius chuckled.

Before Harry _had_ a chance to relax, a long finger plunged inside. He gasped and his mouth tightened around the butt plug, causing an involuntary suction on it. Harry screamed around it, followed by a muffled cry of “No!”

Lucius laughed again. “Oh, yes,” he drawled and another finger was added.

With all of his might, Harry tried not to suck on the butt plug because the pleasure was now turning into pain. He knew that if he wasn’t wearing the cock ring, he would have already come twice. Secretly, he wondered if this ‘toy’ was available in the outside world. To give oneself a blowjob would definitely be the dream of every man.

Harry's train of thought was interrupted by a third finger. He inhaled sharply and willed himself to relax. Three fingers worked as one, pushing in and slowly pulling out. Harry could feel more lubrication being added and he was grateful for it. He looked up at Lucius, but the man wasn’t watching him. He was watching as Harry's hole was expanding further and further.

Suddenly, Harry's head pressed into the table and his muscles clenched around Lucius’s fingers. Something inside of Harry was stroked, and a wave of indescribable pleasure soared through him. Again and again it was touched and Harry squirmed incessantly, moaning loudly and still trying not to suck.

“Please,” Harry said around the butt plug, but was only met with soft laughter. Harry closed his eyes and felt more tears of frustration fall.

In and out, and back and forth the fingers worked until Harry couldn’t take it any longer.

“Now!” Harry cried out, although he knew Lucius wouldn’t understand him. “Fuck me now!”

Suddenly, Harry gasped as the three fingers slid out. There was a gentle pull on the butt plug, and Harry gladly pushed it out.

“I’m sorry,” Lucius said with a smirk. “I do not believe I heard you correctly. Would you care to repeat that?”

Harry took several deep breaths and then looked Lucius square in the eyes.

“I said, ‘Fuck me’.”

Lucius’s smirk turned into a full grin. “With pleasure.”

Lucius ran his hands up Harry's flanks, and continued up until they reached his bound wrists. He gripped them tightly and pressed his body against Harry’s, simultaneously trapping his swollen cock. Harry growled in frustration.

“Are you ready?” Lucius mocked.

Harry glared up at him. “Yes,” he hissed.

No sooner than Harry's words had left his mouth that a thick object plunged deep inside him, and Harry couldn’t help but scream. Incredibly, it felt _wonderful._

“Louder, boy. I want the whole _world_ to hear you,” Lucius said as he pulled out, and then slammed back in.

Harry obliged and it soon felt as if his voice was leaving him. Suddenly, a pair of lips covered Harry's mouth, and he cried into it as another hard thrust was given. Deeper and deeper Lucius’s cock went in, until Harry was sobbing almost hysterically. The friction against his cock, alongside the movement gliding by his prostate, was too much for him. Harry knew he was pleading by now, but he didn’t care. He wanted release, and he wanted it _now_.

But Lucius didn’t listen. He fucked him mercilessly and moaned into Harry's mouth each time his hips slammed against Harry's awkwardly bent legs. Lucius finally released his grip on Harry's wrists and stood, not missing a thrust. He gazed into Harry's eyes and watched as Harry continued to squirm in agony.

Over and over Harry pleaded with Lucius to come, but the blond simply grinned and shook his head. Harry cried out and closed his eyes, but a sharp twist on his nipple caused them to open again.

“Watch,” Lucius ordered.

Harry choked as he watched Lucius seized his cock and began to fondle his balls. Harry’s body convulsed violently and his hips rose to meet each stroke.

“Tell me you like this, boy. Tell me you like me fucking you,” Lucius panted. “I want you to say it out loud.”

“I … I …,” Harry gasped.

“Tell me!”

Harry closed his eyes as if it would hide his embarrassment.

Another hard thrust.

“TELL ME!”

Instantly, Harry shouted, “Yes! Yes! I like you fucking me!”

Harry heard a satisfying groan escape from Lucius’s lips, but the thrusts kept coming. Harry was beyond comprehension now. His mind was in a turmoil and all he could concentrate on was the pain in his cock and balls. Suddenly, Lucius slammed one last time into Harry and released the cock ring. Every muscle in Harry locked up, and every fibre in Harry's being screamed in relief. He threw his back and howled as his orgasm hit him with full force. Never in Harry's young life had he come that hard.

Harry's body remained frozen until every ounce of semen was released. With a loud gasp, Harry's sweat-soaked back fell down to the table. Small tremors still coursed through him, and Harry idly wondered if his heart would ever be able to regulate again. He took satisfaction, however, that the man now lying on top of him was trembling just as hard.

“Thank you, Harry,” Lucius whispered.

Instantly, both men gasped and Harry looked into Lucius’s eyes one last time before they disappeared into thin air.

“NOOOOO!!!” Harry screamed.

The world spun around Harry and he could feel himself collapse to the floor. He began to sob again, but this time it was in anguish. His arms curled around his head in hopes to hide himself from the world. He didn’t know why exactly, or even what had caused it, but he knew in his heart that it was all over.

“Mr Potter?” came a warm female voice. “Are you all right?”

Harry lifted his head up and through his tear-filled eyes, looked at the young kind woman who had first greeted him. Yes, it _was_ over. Harry closed his eyes again and shook his head.

“Michael! Come here!” she called out.

Instantly, a strong pair of hands reached under Harry's arms, and lifted him to his wheelchair. He flinched when he felt a soft touch to his shoulder.

“Mr Potter,” she whispered. “It’s all right. A lot of people have a hard time coming back into reality.”

Harry slowly lifted his eyes and looked at her despairingly.

“Please give yourself time to adjust.”

Harry shook his head. “No. I’m all right,” he lied.

She smiled sadly at him and nodded. “Please remember, Mr Potter, that you are welcome back at anytime,” she said gently, still trying to console him.

He couldn’t even manage a small nod in return. Instead, he turned away from her and headed towards the open door.

~*~*~*~

The night air hit Harry's lungs and a cold chill ran through him. He should be happy with what he had just experienced, but he wasn’t. For the first time in three years he had felt his legs again. For the first time in three years he had felt alive again. But in a microsecond, it had been taken all away from him. It was like a cruel joke that was just played on him and he hated it. He doubted that he would ever return to this place.

Or that he would ever recover from it.

Harry took in a shaky breath, and even though he didn’t want to, he couldn’t help but reflect back on the last two hours. He tried to picture Lucius Malfoy in his head again, but failed. Harry sighed. He knew it wasn’t real, but it sure did _feel_ like it. In fact, everything felt real. The way Lucius had looked at him. The way that Lucius had touched him. And most importantly, the way that Lucius had _spoken_ to him.

Harry bowed his head. No, he sadly knew that none of it was real. Draco Malfoy was proof of that. Draco had died in the war. Unable to stop it, a lone tear ran down Harry's face when another thought occurred to him. There was no way it was the real Lucius Malfoy. The blond had lost his voice in the war, courtesy of Voldemort.

Harry looked up at the night sky. It was time to go home now. He wondered whether or not to thank George, or to curse him for even mentioning this place. Harry glanced one more time at the large door behind him, and then flexed his hands before gripping the wheels. He was just about to move when the sound of a door opening caught his attention. He reached for his wand and spun around.

A tall, fully-cloaked figure was leaving the establishment.

Harry narrowed his eyes in confusion. Someone else was there at the same time? Did it even work that way? Of course, Harry thought to himself. It would be rather narcissistic of him to even think that the establishment only catered to _him_ tonight.

The figure headed down the street away from Harry, but then abruptly stopped. The individual slowly turned to face him. Gloved hands reached up and lowered the cloak’s hood. The first thing Harry had noticed was the long, white-blond hair. The second was a small familiar smirk. Harry's breath caught in his throat the same way it did when he was in the white room.

It was Lucius Malfoy.

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, and as they did, Harry wondered if they were thinking the same thing: Were they _both_ involved in the same fantasy? And if so, was _Lucius’s_ safe word ‘Harry’? Is that why it ended so quickly?

Harry was desperate to find out, but he knew Lucius wouldn’t have been able to answer him. Not out loud anyway. He fidgeted with his wand nervously and then cleared his throat.

“Um. Do you … Do you come here often?” Harry asked Lucius.

As soon as his words were spoken, Harry felt like an idiot. Of all the stupidest and lamest things to ask.

Instead of mocking Harry, however, Lucius merely smiled and shook his head.

“Oh,” Harry responded quietly with a nod, and then looked down to his lap embarrassed. Did he really think that he would have said yes, and then eagerly make arrangements with Harry to meet him here again? Ridiculous. This was Lucius Malfoy. He wouldn’t be interested in a crippled ‘war hero’.

Suddenly, a movement caused Harry to look up. Lucius was walking towards him, and for some odd reason, Harry’s heart skipped a beat and he unconsciously gripped his wand. Lucius stopped a few feet in front of him and smiled. He reached into his cloak pocket and then raised his fist to his lips. It almost appeared as though he was trying to speak into it. Lucius closed the small distance that separated the two of them and then held out his hand, palm face down. It was clear that he wanted to give something to Harry.

Curious, Harry held out _his_ hand and a small round object hit his palm. Lucius Malfoy nodded with a smirk and then turned to leave. Harry looked down at the object. It was a galleon.

“You bastard! Do you think that’s fucking funny?” Harry shouted angrily at him.

Lucius paused and looked over his shoulder. He curled his right hand to make a cup and then raised it to his ear in mocking fashion. Frowning with confusion, Harry mimicked Lucius’s gesture, and held the galleon to his ear and listened.

_“This will activate precisely at eight next Friday evening and transport you to Malfoy Manor. Dress appropriately.”_

Harry gasped and his eyes widened. He looked back at Lucius, who was now grinning. He nodded once to Harry and then disappeared into the darkness.

Harry stared numbly at the empty space before a wide smile covered his lips.

He had exactly six days to find some ‘appropriate’ clothes.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Roedhunt  
2009


End file.
